


All We Held Dear

by hydraxx, showmethelions (sightandsound3733)



Series: The Morning Has Come [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brief dubcon/noncon mention, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydraxx/pseuds/hydraxx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightandsound3733/pseuds/showmethelions
Summary: After a routine mission to clean up a few Empire marauders, Pidge stumbles on something unexpected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read [This is Why We Fight](http://archiveofourown.org/series/736947), you should probably go do that first.

“Pidge, we’re heading into the meeting with the Chiturran leaders, have you found the tech center?”

“Just about,” Pidge replies, rounding the last turn before the destination lit up on her map of the capitol building. “Shouldn’t take me too long to get this done. With all the techs actually cooperating with us and with both mine and Matt’s codes? I won’t keep you guys waiting too long getting all this transferred.”

Shiro’s chuckle rings low in her ear over the comms. “You never do.”

“Very true.” She grins, nice and wide, even if he can’t see it. “Have fun with Keith and Allura.”

“Oh, tons,” Shiro drawls, just relaxed enough that she can hear the way his lips quirk upward. “Check in with Hunk and Lance at least once, alright? They should be handling clean up and sorting supplies out for a while, but still.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Shiro chuckles again, closer to a real laugh this time. “Bye, Pidge.”

The line clicks off just before Pidge pulls her helmet off to chipperly greet the techs. She gets a little round of chirps and smiles in response. She tries not to grin too hard at hearing it. They’ve only actually been on the ground and socializing for like an hour, but she already likes these guys.

It’s been a simple mission so far, way easier than they had any right to expect from the chaos that originally showed up on her scanners and over the radio frequencies they’d been picking up for a few hours before getting a location locked down. Fortunately that turned out to be simple confusion. The Empire threat was just some marauding deserters, but they managed to stir up the otherwise peaceful planet enough to ping Voltron’s sensors and muddy the waters.

But hey, now they’re here, and she’s got some beautiful new data to sift through.

The system opens up under her touch so easily that it actually feels good. Like, really really good. There’s a buzz of amusement over her link with Green, a phantom tease, and it only makes the grin on her lips grow wider.

 _Oh hush_ , she scolds. It’s rare that she gets full access so quickly. She wants to cherish this moment. Another buzz of amusement, and the distinct sensation of Green flirting her tail at her.

“Everyone makes fun of the tech geek,” she mutters, plugging in the little drive file with one of Matt’s breakdown codes. Pidge is loath to admit it, but his are better than her own—faster at the very least—and using his code will make it easier when she uploads it to Jion as planned later, just before the Coalition arrives on planet to join the talks.

Pidge settles into a good pace as she weaves through the files, humming a bit to herself. Matt got an old, sappy song their mom used to sing stuck in her head last time they saw one another. She’s definitely repaying that favor when he gets here.

There are all the usual pieces of data: schematics, infrastructure, communications, personnel profiles. Pidge breezes through them all.

Until something sticks. Immediately she frowns, her fingertips landing a bit harder on the keys at this sudden frustration. “C’mon,” she mutters. “We were doing so good.” An error message pops up, too quick for her to read it, and then she’s forwarded to a screen that demands her clearance level in firm Galra text.

Pidge frowns. _What the fuck?_

This is the kind of screen she gets when working Galra systems on cruisers, or the personal computers of high ranking Galra officials that they seize when Voltron chases the Empire off a planet. None of the other files had even a whisper of this kind of protection, which only makes it more annoying.

Whatever. She’s dealt with this before. Gotten pretty quick at it, even—until another error message appears, and another, and another every time she types in the ever-more-forceful codes that usually break through.

She’s grinding her teeth by the time it opens, and she hisses out a vengeful little _“Ha!”_ when the full file pops onto her screen. “Take that, Matt,” she mutters, smirking to herself and resettling in her chair. This is going to be fun to lord over him later, that she cracked on the fly what his code couldn’t.

It’s a little surprising to just find standard prisoner files. With all the high-level protections, she’d expected something more exciting. As she scrolls through them, though, pieces click into place.

The file summaries almost all include some physical description of the prisoners, their health, their… breeding capability with Galrans.

“Oh, no,” Pidge groans. “Come on, why? Like regular shit wasn’t bad enough…” She hisses out a breath between clenched teeth. Concubines. Unbelievable. Just when she thinks she’s seen it all from the Empire, some two-bit general goes ahead and makes shit worse.

Pidge glances over to the still chipper Chiturrans bopping around the place. With the files locked down like this she’s betting they had no idea what was happening… and she doesn’t really want to be the one to break the news.

Something needs to be done about this, and quickly. There isn’t much explicit detail in the files, but she’s willing to bet that some of these beings, if not all, were hidden away, and they’ll more than likely need some sort of attention, medical or otherwise.  
  
_Leilani will be here soon… but not soon enough._ Pidge doesn’t hesitate to reach for her helmet. Lance and Hunk can be spared for a little recon, right?

She slips her helmet back on and opens up the comm lines, isolating it just to Lance and Hunk. No need to bother the others when they’re mid-diplomacy. Not yet anyway. “Hey, guys?”

“Pidge?” Hunk sounds tired but still upbeat. Clean up and recovery is some of the hardest and yet most rewarding work they get to do as paladins. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got something for you and Lance, if you’re not tied up.”

“We just finished up helping Coran unload some medical supplies,” Lance chimes in. “What do you got, Pidgeroo?”

Normally she’d chew him out for the dumb pet name, but she just takes a deep, slightly uneven breath. “So…  I found some files. It looks like this one general was keeping… concubines?” Her voice goes a bit squeaky on the word. “I don’t know, exactly, but that’s what it looks like. And I think we need to find these people pretty fast.” She’s still scrolling through, her heart sinking with every new file.

“Are you serious?” Lance asks, low and serious. She can hear the frown in his voice loud and clear. “Concubines?”

“That or some horrible sex experiments,” Pidge mutters. She keys in a quick command and bundles the files together to link up to Hunk and Lance’s comms. “Honestly, I don’t know which is worse…”

“Both would be pretty terrible,” Hunk mutters darkly. “I thought we’d seen it all before, but…”

“I know.” Pidge bites on her lower lip, going back to sorting through the files. She can’t not read these. It feels like… a disservice to these people. “I don’t even know where to start to look for them, there’s nothing about a location in the files but—”

“We’ll start checking around,” Lance says immediately. “Don’t worry, Pidge. We’ll find them.”

Pidge smiles, even if he can’t see. “I know you will,” she says, softer than she’d like to admit to herself. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” He’s grinning for her, she knows it, just as charming as always, if not as bright for the circumstance.

“Pause on the attempts at tonal flirting for the moment, would you?” Hunk’s chastisement is more of a tease, and Pidge is glad she’s got her face obscured by the helmet as warmth flushes her cheeks while Lance squawks. “We’ll check in after we ask around a bit, Pidge. You gonna keep sorting through this stuff?”

“Yeah. There’s a lot to sift through.” Pidge bites absently on her lip, scanning through the many more files that keep loading up. “I’ll forward anything else I can pull off this server for you that looks relevant.”

“Sounds good. We’ll keep you updated.”

They disconnect and Pidge turns off the comms with a sigh, fixing her eyes back on the screen once more. It’s seemingly endless, just name after name, each one like a sinking stone in her gut. Names start to repeat, surnames (or what she thinks are surnames), and the ages drop dramatically—these files are for younger beings… Children.

A hole opens up in her chest, a sinking, gaping cavern of horror that feels like it’s sucking the life from her, feels like it’s going to tear her right apart—and then she sees that the children’s files don’t have the same kinds of notes as their parents. None of the disturbingly details, the recounts of experiences—just some basic information, like height, weight and age. The relief that slams into Pidge is enough to make her head spin.

Green tries to soothe her, sending warmth and the calming pull of reassurance over their bond. “Thanks, girl,” Pidge whispers aloud, swallowing hard around the lingering unease in her throat. She can almost feel the thrum of Green’s purring alongside the beat of her own heart.

It bolsters her enough to renew her focus on the files. The rest of this folder appears to be children. Almost half heartedly, afraid of what else she might find, Pidge clicks into a few to scan the information. Strangely, all of the ones under a certain age are linked to a file that throws up another round of restricted access scripts at her.

Pidge has had enough frustration for one day. She tries Matt’s code first and just like before, she’s denied, and only overcomes the issue by throwing an onslaught of mixed code breakers into the keyboard, practically sneering at the screen when it finally cracks and the single file protected behind the wall opens up before her.

There’s no name on this one, just an identifier in the form of a string of numbers at the top, _1117-9876._

Pidge pauses, straightening up in her chair. Something about that number is almost familiar. Not quite right, but something about it is dipping a toe into déjà vu territory. It takes a moment for her to realize why—Shiro’s prisoner number, something they’ve heard blare over speakers more than once when a system recognizes his arm’s interface, was just a single number lower.

That’s… weird, to say the least. Pidge shakes it off and continues to scroll through the file instead of dwelling on the numbers. The information is clear enough; this file belongs to someone who was serving as a caretaker for the younger children. There isn’t much about them personally, mostly just a log of which children were assigned to their care and when. Pidge is about to click away to send it off to Hunk and Lance with the other files when a picture loads at the bottom and she freezes right in place.

It’s a single, simple image. A collection of small children, very small, and very young from the looks of it, are clustered around a single adult figure. He’s standing in the middle of the little circle with one of the babes cradled in his arms. It’s not the clearest picture, but Pidge can see that while his eyes are tired, they are fond and full of warmth, and the smile captured on his lips is genuine and her heart _aches_ because it’s one she knows well. One she saw every day growing up, one she’s missed like an actual limb, a clawing ache she carries with her. One she half-believed she’d ever see again.

That’s… it’s her father. Samuel Holt. It’s him.

For a moment she feels lightheaded before realizing that she actually stopped breathing. Green slinks into her mind, worried and prodding, but Pidge shakes her head to clear it. She has to go, she has to tell someone, do something—she has to find her dad.

Quickly she swipes the data to her comm, unable to take her eyes off the photo, her father, the warmth in his tired, tired eyes, and then she’s sprinting from the room and calling Matt as she goes. She’s barely aware of the Chiturrans calling after her, confused and startled by her actions, but she doesn’t care, she doesn’t fucking care, she has to _go!_

Matt doesn’t pick up. She spits curses at her comm and switches it to Martek’s line in the same breath. Martek _always_ answers.

“Hello Pidge.” Martek’s voice is maybe the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. “I thought you were to work with Jion on this particular data transfer. Not that I am not happy to hear from you.”

“I’m not calling about the data,” Pidge says, too fast, words tumbling into each other. She turns a corner—it was this one, right? She made a left then a right, and up the long corridor before. “Well—I am, but I’m not. I need to talk to Matt, right now, but he didn’t pick up when I called—”

“He is in a strategy meeting with the Commanders and the Alpha Two team being sent to Beta Serron.” Pidge can hear concern in his voice. “Pidge, are you alright? You sound very—”

“I need to talk to him now!” The hall she’s in now doesn’t look familiar, not at all. Green pulls at their connection, trying to show her calm, but the icy cold tension that’s wrapped itself around Pidge’s chest is making it hard to breathe. “Please, Martek, I—I need to—oh where the fuck am I?!”

Green pushes again, this time with the gentle reminder of the map. Pidge is going to fucking cry. The map. Right, she has a map! She has to swipe away from her father’s picture to pull it up, so she does it quickly, reorienting herself and correcting her path while Martek’s voice in her ear calls her name.

She’s sprinting up the hall, annoyed at herself for wasting time—she has no way of knowing where her dad is, whether he’s okay, whether he’s even still on the planet. What if the general who locked down the files decided to take people with him when he ran? The possibility sends her heart racketing against her ribs.

“Are you going to patch me through to Matt?” Pidge demands, her voice barely steady. “He didn’t pick up when I called.”

“I’m sorry, Pidge. He doesn’t have his comm. He left it here in the Hub for a repair and ordered that no one disturb the meeting on top of it,” Martek says, voice pitched low and soothing. Like she’s an animal that got spooked. “The Commanders are coordinating Alpha strike movements and negotiation with the ambassador from Beta Serron before our arrival on Chiturr.”

She swears and ignores Martek’s reflexive chiding. “Okay, well, just—ugh. Whatever.” As she skids around a corner, she closes the comm, only feeling a little bad about cutting off the call. Unbelievable. Un-fucking—  
  
The meeting room comes up almost too quickly, she only doesn’t speed right past it because Green tugs to catch her attention. Pidge presses thanks back at her lion and throws open the doors.

“He’s here!” she cries, indifferent to the surprised gasps of the Chiturran leaders and the talks she’s just cut off. “I found his file, he’s here—or he _was_ here—”

“Pidge!” Shiro is frowning, holding out one hand like he does when he’s trying to bring her back to reality. “What’s going on? Who’s here?”

“My dad,” she pants, clutching at a stitch in her side. Her sprint from the tech center is catching up to her now. “His file was locked but I found it, they had him here.”

“What?!” Immediately Shiro’s on his feet, followed quickly by a wide eyed Keith. “Your—Commander Holt is _here?_ ”

“Look!” Pidge stumbles forward, and pulls up the picture again on her wristlet. “Shiro, look! It’s Dad!”

There are no words to describe the ache in her chest when Shiro’s eyes go wide like that. He looks so… young. So young and vulnerable and like the air has been sucked right out of his lungs. Pidge gets in his space and he reaches for her, pulling her close and gaping at the image of her father and the children.

“It’s him,” she whispers, unable to stop herself from shaking, even under Shiro’s steadying grasp. “Shiro… it’s Dad.”

Shiro is shaking too, Pidge can feel him, but it only shows in the quivering of his human hand, his fingers just pressing against the edge of the projection. “Sam…” he breathes.

Keith gets a look at the picture from over Shiro’s shoulder and turns on the Chiturrans. “Where is he?” he demands, voice sharp and unforgiving, and with his hand too quick to reach for his bayard—no, his blade. Alarm rips around the table and Allura’s the next to jump to her feet.

“Keith!” The royal authority and warning in her voice is barely enough to make him pause, and it certainly does nothing to erase the tense determination on his face when he turns.

“If Pidge’s dad is here, we have to find him!” he snaps back at Allura. To the Chiturrans he says again, “Where is he?!”

The three Chiturrans at the table look at each other, wide eyed and thoroughly confused. “Who is ‘he,’ Red Paladin?” Leader Hi-ran asks, chirping anxiously. “What has caused such distress?”

“Leader, my apologies,” Allura soothes, hands held up before her, gentle and graceful. She looks past Keith, and catches Pidge’s gaze. “Pidge, can you explain to us what you have found? You believe it is your father?”

Her voice is so soft, so cautious and yet hopeful and Pidge’s chest aches again. She swallows around the feeling, and nods, relying heavily on Shiro’s warmth and the steady thrum of Green’s presence through the bond to keep herself together.

“My father was taken prisoner by the Galra Empire. I’ve been looking for him everywhere. While I was sorting through the data just now I found an encrypted cache of files and information and… this was there.” She quickly blows the picture up larger, projecting it up on the table’s screen interface, just managing not to wince at the pained noise Shiro makes under his breath at the loss of the image at his fingertips.

She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but instant recognition of the image and a round of pleased chittering from all of the Chiturrans definitely isn’t it.

“Oh!” Leader Hi-ran says, lips parting in a bright grin. “Yes, this is Samuel! He is your father?”

“Yes! Do you know where he is?” Pidge asks quickly, the desperate words tripping their way out of her in a breathless rush.

“Well, with the young ones, of course.” Hi-ran shifts in their seat. “Send a message to the creche, ask for Samuel to come join us.” All four of their eyes are warm, the pale golden hue of them seeming almost to glow. “It is only fitting that so great a being as he is would have a noble paladin as his own young one!”

Pidge feels her knees go weak and Keith catches her arm for support before they can truly buckle. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, he’s here, you found him.”

“I found him,” she whispers, leaning into him.

Shiro presses closer, a gentle hand landing on her back. “Have you called Matt?”

“I talked to Martek, but—” Oh. She didn’t actually tell him why she was calling. “His comm’s in for repairs and they’re in a meeting. I didn’t get to tell him, Shiro, I—”

“Hey.” Shiro catches her hand and her gaze, and Keith tightens his grip enough for her to feel through her armor. “Breathe, Pidge. It’s okay. Matt’s on his way here now and we’re not going anywhere.” A small smile, one that wavers as much as his hand was shaking, blossoms on his lips. “We can try him again in a little bit.”

“Right.” Pidge nods, swallowing back the tangle of her emotions in her throat. “R-right, yeah…” Matt is coming here, he’s on his way. They’re all going to be together again soon.

It’s too good to be true. Even in her sweetest dreams it was always something just out of reach. But now… Pidge tugs off her helmet and ducks her head, hiding for the moment behind the curls that fall into her face. This is real. It’s real…

Allura too steps closer now, her hand curling lightly over Pidge’s shoulder. She looks again to the Chiturrans. “Can you tell us how he came to be here?”

Hi-ran gives the little tilt of a head that appears to be the Chiturran equivalent of a shrug. “He was among those brought with the last Empire contingent. These generals always bring their own people, families and staff, that sort of thing.” A short, hollow laugh. “We have hardly been in a position to ask questions of the Galra.”

“Were there—” Pidge swallows back the word _concubines._ She’s not sure she wants to know the truth about that. “How long has he been here?”

“Quite a while at this point,” the prime minister, a small Chiturran called Gado’t, says as they look up from the little device they used to send the message summoning Sam. “The last contingent was six or seven cycles ago.” They smile, just as warm and fond when speaking about Sam as Hi-ran is. “He cares for my youngest, among many other children too young for school, who spend their days in creche.”

“He’s just babysitting?” Keith asks defensively. Way back when, Pidge might have been offended at his tone, but now she knows how to recognize his pained, protective worry. She shifts out of his grip on her arm so she can take his hand instead. Some of the tension slips from his shoulders.

Gado’t looks a bit confused as they answer, “I suppose, yes, in a technical sense. The creche is his only responsibility among us, but I cannot speak to what the general might have had him do.”

“His file just lists the children he cares for,” Pidge says softly, looking to Keith. “It doesn’t say anything else… but he’s got quite a few assigned to his care from this general alone from the looks of it.”

“He should be here soon,” Hi-ran says, glancing to the time. “The creche is not far from here, just a level below.” They smile, aiming it squarely at Pidge. “We are honored to have a part in this reunion, Green Paladin.”

She nods, her mouth suddenly dry with anticipation at seeing her father again even as her palms grow embarrassingly sweaty.

Allura asks some more questions, about the general this time, numbers of staff brought with him, other logistics, and the Chiturrans are happy to answer. Pidge doesn’t hear a word. Her gaze jumps from the door to the floor and back again, her stomach churning.  
  
Keith squeezes her hand gently. “You alright?” he murmurs, eyes near liquid with concern.

“Yeah,” Pidge breathes shakily. Her eyes burn. It’s a little surprising she hasn’t cried yet, for all the tears shed over the possibility of this moment never happening at all. “It might not seem like it… but I’m great.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs. “I know what that feels like.” Keith’s gaze flickers up to Shiro, and all that he’s not saying plays out clearly in his eyes. He knows what it’s like to search and search and find someone unexpectedly, knows what it’s like to carry grief wrapped tight around his heart. Pidge holds on tighter to his hand, and Shiro frowns.

“Keith…”  
  
“Don’t.” Keith shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Shiro blinks. “I’m… processing.” A small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think I know how to—” Whatever Shiro doesn’t know dies on his lips as the doors open and a thin, waifish Chiturran steps into the room, a cheerful escort to the man who enters at his side.

Sam Holt.

 _“Dad!”_ The word bursts out of Pidge before she can even think, and she breaks away from Keith and Shiro to throw herself at her father.

His eyes go wide at the blur of curls and limbs flying toward him. “Matt?”

She collides with him, thrown for a moment by how different he feels before it hits her how long they’ve been apart, how much she’s grown and changed in that time. “No, not Matt. I… It’s _me,_ Daddy—”

Sam sucks in a sharp breath and his arms go tight around his daughter on instinct. _“Katie?”_

Her name on his lips is what finally makes her cry, makes her crumble in his arms and hold on for dear life. “It’s me,” she says again, voice a broken and wavering, watery mess. “It’s Katie, I’m here!”

“Katie…” Sam breathes. He struggles to put distance between them, a distance she fights until she realizes he’s trying to look at her, one thin hand cupping her chin and tilting her face up so he can see her, really see her. “Oh… oh sweetheart!”

A sob breaks past her lips, broken and audible and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care that she’s in her armor, doesn’t care that she’s got teammates scattered around the room, doesn’t care that all eyes are on her and that she’s breaking down for everyone to see. She doesn’t care. How could she when her father pulls her in again for another hug, holding on tighter than before, and he’s burying kisses in her hair amongst disbelieving whispers of her name?

Into his chest she sobs, “I missed you, Daddy,” crying harder when he replies with a rough-voiced, “I missed you too, Katie-cat.” This goes on for a few moments more—Pidge thinks she’d let it continue for an eternity if it means this is real, that _he_ is real—until the soft, distressed chirping of the Chiturrans that pulls their attention away.

Sam wipes tears from his face as he offers the Chiturrans a shaky smile. “I’m sorry, I—this is my daughter, Katie. I haven’t seen her in a very long time.” His voice breaks. Pidge bites hard on her lip when he looks at her again, and his thumb traces an arch over her cheek, smearing through tear tracks and settling near her ear. “How are you here, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been looking for you.” Pidge swallows around the threat of more tears. “Since they told us—the Garrison told us you all died.”

“Died?” Sam breathes. “I—no. Of course that’s what they believe. Oh, your poor mother…” He closes his eyes and Pidge holds him tighter on reflex. “I can’t imagine what she must be going through…”

“Mom’s strong, Dad,” Pidge murmurs, her arms wrapped all the way around his waist. He’s too thin. “She’s okay… or she was when I left.” Pidge drops her gaze guiltily. “That was a long time ago now.”

His eyes open, glassy with tears again. “How long?”

She bites her lip before admitting, “We left Earth almost three years ago. At least we think that’s accurate, it’s the closest estimate we’ve got.”

“How long were we missing first?” Sam asks shakily.

“About a year.”

“Oh, God,” he whispers. His eyes squeeze shut. Pidge knows he’s thinking about her mother, his wife, his darling Colleen who hasn’t had word of her husband or son in four years. Four long years alone, probably fighting the Garrison tooth and nail to send another rescue mission if Pidge knows her at all. And of course she does. They grieved together, even if they didn’t fully believe that Matt and Sam were gone.

“Neither of us believed it,” Pidge insists. “They said it was pilot error, but we knew Shiro wouldn’t—” She turns and looks over her shoulder at Shiro, offering him a small smile. “We always knew it wasn’t true. I don’t know if I ever told you that...”

Sam follows her gaze back across the room, eyes widening again when he spots Shiro.

“Takashi?”

“Commander Holt,” Shiro says, soft with awe despite his Garrison-rigid stance. “I—Hello, sir.”

“You’re… you’re alive?” Sam twitches in Pidge’s arms, like he’s about to step forward and go to Shiro, but the move falters before it starts.

Shiro nods silently, looking like the words are stuck to his tongue.

Tears well in Sam’s eyes once again as he reaches one arm out and says, “Takashi, son, come here.”

Pidge has known Shiro a while now. He’d been Matt’s roommate and friend since they both started at the Garrison, his boyfriend for what feels like forever, and she’s been living with him since they left Earth. She knows him, she shares a mental bond with him regularly. But she doesn’t think she’s ever seen the raw, cracked expression that’s on his face now. The closest she thinks she’s got as a comparison is how he looked when they found Matt, but that was a different tone and caliber than this.

Keith pushes gently at his back, lips moving around a quiet, “Go,” and Shiro stumbles forward like a fawn on new legs.

Sam wraps him up in an embrace with with her, pulling Shiro along like he isn’t twice Sam’s size. Shiro melts into the hold, breathing out shakily and hugging his former Commander as tight as he dares. “Hello Commander,” he whispers. Pidge grins even though her cheek is smushed against Shiro’s chest plate.

“It’s so good to see you,” Sam whispers. “I never wanted to say it to Matt in the camp but I had been so sure…” He pauses and pulls back to look at Shiro with wide eyes, then down at Pidge. “Matt. Oh… Katie. Matt, have you—”

“Matt’s fine, Dad,” Pidge says quickly, beaming up at him. “He’s on his way here now.”

“He is?” Sam breathes. “You found him too? He’s alright?”

“Yes,” Shiro confirms softly, smiling at Sam. “Matt’s great. He’s… I don’t know how to even start explaining everything, but Matt is great, Sam.”

Sam gapes at them both, drawn and pale, and Pidge realizes that the shaking she’s feeling now isn’t from her arms, or Shiro’s human hand, but from her father.

“Daddy?” she asks, holding tighter to his waist. “Are you alright?”

“I think I need to sit down…” Sam manages, bringing on quivering hand to his forehead. “I… This is a lot to take in, Kitten.” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh on his lips. “How is this real? How did you get here?”

“It’s a long story,” Pidge offers gently. She shifts more so she’s at his side, Shiro automatically mirroring the movement to act more as a support for Sam, cradling him protectively between them both. It’s then that he seems to notice the armor they’re both wearing, the scar on Shiro’s face, and Keith hovering with Allura back at the table with the Chiturrans.

“Yes…” Sam says slowly, letting them both guide him into a seat. “I’m thinking it would have to be.”

Shiro takes most of Sam’s weight when easing him into the chair, not like there’s much there to take. “It’s longer than you might think,” he says, joking lightly. His eyes just light up when that gets Sam to laugh. “I’m not sure where to start… but we should probably wait for Matt to get here.”

“We can wait,” Pidge says, surprising no one more than herself. “We have time.”

Sam chuckles softly, nodding. “We do,” he says, meeting and holding her gaze. “Plenty of time, Kitten.”

Her heart is overflowing with relief and warmth as she claims the chair next to her father and wraps her arms around him again. Four years gone feels like a blip in time compared to this, to the time they have now, together again.

A kiss brushes her brow and Pidge closes her eyes tightly. She did it. She found him.

They have time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Honey, I’m home!” Matt calls, keeping his pace brisk as he walks into the Hub. There’s a brief chorus of greetings from the various Hub coders and hackers at their stations, but they barely look up from whatever they’re working on. 

Martek is already on his feet as Matt approaches.

“Hello Commander. Did the meeting go well?”

“It was fine.” Matt shrugs, grabbing a data pad off the top of his console, booting it up to scroll quickly through a few files. “That ambassador from Beta Serron sucks as much as she ever has, nothing new.”

“Are you ready to embark, sir? !oshi called ahead of your arrival to remind me of the time.”

“They sound all pinched and squeaky?” Matt glances at Martek with a grin. Martek pretends to be unamused and disapproving, but Matt knows him better than that.  

“!oshi urged me to remind you that there is a very precise schedule to keep today, sir. It would not serve us well to insult the Chiturrans with a show of tardiness at the first diplomatic meeting between us.” 

“It's not my fault we ran late.” Matt tucks the pad under his arms and turns on his heel to head out. “Walk with me. Jion! You’re coming too. Bring whatever my sister’s sent you and brief me on the way.”

“Speaking of your sister,” Martek says as he hurries after Matt. Neither of them bother waiting on Jion. With his long ass legs he’ll overtake them before they’re even out the door. “She called while you were in the meeting.”

“She was supposed to,” Matt reminds Martek. “She’s working with Jion on whatever she could pull from the Chiturran systems.”

“I haven’t gotten a call from Pidge yet, sir,” Jion says, walking with his eyes on his data pad, scrolling through his messages. Matt grabs his arm and jerks on it to stop Jion from walking into the doorframe. Jion startles, his ears curling in on themselves. “Thank you, Commander.”

Matt chuckles and keeps walking. If he’s late in meeting up with the others !oshi’s eyes will get all big and distressed. “Spatial awareness, pup. Gotta look alive before there’s a gangly Galran-shaped hole in one of my walls.”

Martek clears his throat, quickening his pace to keep up with what Matt’s set. “I received a call from her. While you were in the meeting.”

“Yeah, I said, you were supposed to get a call from her—”   


“She did not have any information about the data, sir. At least not that she shared with me. She sounded… distressed.”

“What?” Matt doesn’t stop, but he does glance at Martek as he goes. 

“Distressed, sir,” Martek says again. “She asked to speak with you and sounded extremely upset. I could not get her to tell me what was wrong, and she disconnected the call before I could press for answers."

Matt frowns. “Okay, that’s weird.” 

“Were they under attack?” Jion asks, blinking at them both.

Martek shakes his head. “No, I double checked after the fact. Voltron completely handled the threat, and the paladins were working with Princess Allura and the Chiturrans to lay the groundwork for the alliance.” Martek glances up at Matt. “Would you like me to place a call to her now, sir?” 

Matt thinks about it for a moment, and then shakes his head. “I’m going to see her in like ten minutes. If she didn’t call again I’m going to assume she got whatever had her freaking out handled.” He shrugs. “She’ll tell me all about it when we get there.”

“...Yes, sir.” Martek sounds anything but sure, but he doesn’t push the issue. Not seconds later, they’ve arrived at the hangar, where only !oshi waits outside the pod, definitely in full fretting mode now.

“Commander Holt!” they squeak as soon as they see him. “Sir, we’re coming very close to running late!”

“Yeah, yeah, Martek said you already nagged him,” Matt says with an easy grin. “It’s not my fault this time, though. Blame Beta Serron.”

“Can we assign blame later? Please, the other Commanders are waiting—”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Matt laughs as he hops into the pod, waving his free hand at his fellow Pillars settled inside.

Leilani smiles sweetly at him, lifting their head off Kartok’s shoulder. “Matthew, thank goodness. Are we ready now?”

“Yup. Hepabt, take us away!"

Hepabt quietly confirms, running last checks as Matt buckles himself in. Zarra glances up from the latest updates from Voltron about Coalition troops borrowed for the movement on Chiturr and offers him a smile. 

“Did I hear you complaining about Beta Serron?” she asks, almost coy.

“Ambassador Dess’aline is a nightmare.” Matt rolls his eyes. 

A smirk crosses her lips, and she looks back to her work. “I warned you.”

“Don't get all smug at me.” Matt rolls his eyes. “I handled her just fine. Didn’t lose my temper and we got what we wanted out of the meeting. Just took longer than we planned.”

“I still warned you,” she says again, almost in a sing song this time.

“Let us stop this before it escalates,” Kartok says, halting Matt before he can give voice to his rebuttal. The fondness with which he watches them undermines any severity he might have wanted his words to hold, but no one minds. “It will be barely more than moments before we land and join Voltron with Chiturr’s leaders.”

“The meeting should not take long,” Leilani adds, smiling warmly. “I think we should be able to salvage much of the day to explore the planet. Maybe… engage in personal activities.”

“Lani, If you’re trying to be subtle in telling me I might be able to steal Shiro for a date or something, you’re not exactly nailing it.” Matt shakes his head, grin stretching from ear to ear.

Leilani laughs. “I said no such thing.”

Before Matt can tease them again, Hepabt announces, “We are on final approach to Chiturr, Commanders.”

“Thank you, Hepabt.” Kartok aims a smile over to the cockpit. “!oshi, please notify our contact on the ground of our arrival. Let us try to keep things moving as smoothly as possible. We have lost enough time today already.”

“Kartok doesn’t like Ambassador Dess’aline either,” Zarra notes lightly, still smirking.

“No,” Leilani laughs, the sound as sweet as their eyes are bright. “No, he does not.” 

Kartok rumbles, “I decline to comment. Shall we not make ourselves even later for this meeting so that my second does not finally abandon me?”

“Ah yes, let us not drive !oshi away after so long.” Leilani turns their smile on the diminutive second, who dips their head.

“Thank you, Commander.”   


“If !oshi dips, then Martek is ready to run,” Matt grins, getting to his feet and stretching quickly as Hepabt turns fully in his chair, a usual signal that they’re landed and settled fully. “Don’t know why he hasn’t bolted before now.”

“Your magnetic personality, sir,” Martek says dryly, not even looking at Matt as he relieves Jion of the datapads in his arms and gets to his feet as well. 

“See, you’re being sarcastic, but we all know you mean it,” Matt snickers. “You love me, Martek. For some reason.”

“You needle him too much,” Zarra says, striding to the door first. She’s without Ortraz on this particular trip, and the absence of him looming at her back is noticeable to say the least. “Leave your poor second alone, Matthew.”

“To be fair, he did know what he was signing up for when I offered him the job,” Matt points out. He follows close behind Zarra, Martek at his elbow, as they step out into the Chiturran light.

“Oh,” Leilani breathes, eyes wide. 

“Damn,” Matt whistles.”The Chiturrans know how to build a city.” It sprawls glittering before them, climbing the slopes of the hill toward the palace they landed beside. 

“Their architectural tradition was briefly glossed in the preparatory packet I sent,” !oshi comments, falling into place at Kartok’s side. “Perhaps you all may see it later, but for now we are still on a very tight schedule, Commanders.”

“Yes, !oshi, we know,” Kartok says, his voice pitched low and soothing. “We are on our way, dear friend. Please do not fret.”

“You have done well today.” Leilani reaches with a gentle hand to catch at !oshi’s chin as they walk. Matt swallows a laugh at how even !oshi, who’s been with Kartok and Leilani for years more than most, gets starry-eyed under Leilani’s attention. 

Zarra rolls her eyes, taking Matt’s hand and tugging him slightly ahead. “Come. No need to fluster poor !oshi.”

“Leilani’s the one doing the flustering,” Matt snickers. “I’d think it was nefarious if it was anyone but them.”

Their laugh floats through the sweet air and they take his other hand. “Come, stop flattering and let us go. The sooner we arrive, the sooner you may slip away with your mate.”

Matt shakes his head. “Alright, alright. Where are we going?”

“There should be someone meeting us—”

!oshi is cut off by a polite greeting.

“Welcome, Commanders!” The Chiturran who greets them is clearly !oshi’s counterpart, eager and bright eyed as they hug a pad against their chest. “It is a joy and a pleasure to greet you on this day! Leader Hi-ran and Prime Minister Gado’t wait in the main hall with the Paladins of Voltron, and they are eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Thank you,” Leilani says brightly. Light citrus and mint tingle on Matt’s tongue, faint enough for him to know it’s intentional, and something that Leilani is extending to the Chiturran as well, which they are clearly delighted by.

“If you would all follow me?” All four of their eyes glow warmly and their smile is near blinding. “It is just a short walk to the hall.”   
  
“Yes, please,” !oshi says, finally having relaxed now, the usual, breathy quality returning to their voice.

The next moment they’re swept into the truly beautiful palace and up a long hall, their cheerful guide chattering off facts about the building. Leilani is enraptured and enthusiastic, as they pretty much always are, and Matt takes this as a moment to quietly check in with his team.

“Any word from my sister with that data?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder at Martek and Jion. 

“No sir,” Jion says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I tried to comm her myself, but her current status reads as offline.”

Matt waves it off. “No worries. We’ll see her after the meeting.”

“You have not heard from Pidge?” Zarra asks, one ear twitching. “Was she not to work with Jion today?”

“I think she might have run into some tech issues. She tried to call me earlier, but my comms are down, and we were in the meeting when she got Martek on the horn.” Matt shrugs and squeezes her hand gently. “I’m sure it’s fine. She hasn’t tried again so I’m set to assume that she got it handled.” 

A low, subvocal trill is all the response Zarra deigns to give, a sound of concern. 

“It’ll be fine,” Matt assures her. “We’re going to see her as soon as we’re done with the leadership. Be easy.”

“...If something was truly wrong you would have received a call from Shiro,” Zarra says after a thoughtful pause. Comforted by this, she nods and relaxes, just a bit. Warmth swells in Matt’s chest. For all that Shiro still has issues with Zarra and their relationship, she clearly has utmost trust in him and his capabilities as a leader.

Their guide stops before a set of doors and smiles as they open it for them. “If you would please follow me inside here, Commanders.”

Leilani gives their thanks again, and, winding two of their arms with Kartok, leads the way inside. 

“Showtime,” Matt murmurs, squeezing Zarra’s hand and kissing her knuckles as they enter. 

“Behave,” she mutters back to him without bothering to suppress her smile. 

Matt grins back, tilting his chin up, sinking easily into the attitude he presents when walking into a diplomatic situation. Best foot forward and all that. 

The meeting room is just as lovely as the rest of what they’ve seen so far, with high arching ceilings and seemingly endless windows, casting the room in a gorgeous spray of sunlight. This is going to be a beautiful place to steal some time with Shiro once all is said and done. 

Speaking of…

Leilani is leading greetings and introductions, having pulled away from Kartok for the moment, taking Leader Hi-ran’s hand within their own while they beam and gush and are their generally lovely and effusive self, so Matt doesn’t hesitate to let his attention drift around the room, seeking out his boyfriend. 

Who... doesn’t seem to be here at all. 

Only Allura and another Chiturran sit at the table, there’s absolutely no sign of any of the paladins at all. Matt frowns. He knows both Keith and Shiro are supposed to sit in today, Coran sent a short brief about it to both the Blades and the Coalition just hours before. Where the hell are they?

Allura catches his gaze and she offers him a small smile, rising to her feet. “Hello, Commander.”

Matt reaches for the professional tone he’s taken to using with her over the last year and change, dipping his head in greeting. “Princess. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.” She nods her head in return. “And you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” 

There’s an awkward pause, and Allura clears her throat. “The paladins will rejoin us shortly,” she says, hands clasping before her neatly. “Keith slipped away to call the Blade of Marmora with an update, and Shiro stepped out for just a moment.”

“Ah.” Matt nods, unsure of what else to say. Zarra’s hand tightens on his own momentarily, and then she smiles for Allura as well. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Princess, and a joy to foster peace together today.” 

The smile Allura has for Zarra comes a little easier, a little freer. “The same to you as well, Commander. It has been a good day for us all. Chiturr is a beautiful planet, and I believe we are going to enter a fruitful alliance for us all.”

“Oh yes!” Hi-ran says, jumping into the conversation with a smile. “We are wholly ready to join with Voltron and the Coalition to work for peace in our universe.” 

“Likewise.” Matt drops Zarra’s hand so she can step forward and greet the planet’s Leader directly herself, before stepping up to do the same. “It’s gonna be good, we’re all looking forward to it.” 

“Shall we get discussions started?” Kartok asks. “There is much we have to cover.”

“Shiro should be returning soon,” Allura offers, easing herself back into her seat. “Keith as well, though I have less of an idea of how long his discussion with Kolivan will take. But I see no harm in getting started now.”

“I still don’t have any data,” Matt says, looking to Hi-ran. “My sister, the Green Paladin, was supposed to send a transfer, but I haven’t gotten anything from her yet.”

“Ah yes!” Hi-ran smiles widely, eyes bright. “Yes, the Green Paladin!” 

Matt quirks a brow at that reaction. Pidge is great, obviously, but that’s a lot of smile at just the mention of her. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “That would be Pidge. Have you heard anything or…?”

“She too is on her way.” Allura folds her hands together on the table, smiling. “I believe she required Shiro’s assistance with accessing some sensitive material.”

Accessing sensitive material. What?

Matt’s about to call bullshit when the door behind them opens and he hears Pidge cry, “Matt!"

Instantly Allura is forgotten, and Matt turns around with a grin, bracing himself for the inevitable impact of his sister crashing into him for a hug. It’s something she’s taken to doing, greeting him like he’s about to go up in a puff of smoke. Burying his face in her curls, hugging her tightly, he can’t exactly say he minds. 

“Hey Katie-cat,” Matt murmurs, lifting her up off the ground and spinning her around when her arms lock tight around his neck. “Was wondering where you’d run off to.”

“Hi,” she whispers, clinging to him until he sets her back down. “Thought you’d never get here!”

“We had meetings all morning,” Matt offers in lieu of an apology. He’d rather have been here with her and Shiro than dealing with hoity-toity ambassadors who think too much of themselves, but he’s not going to apologize for doing his job. “And we’re definitely not late. If you say we are, !oshi’s head might explode.”

“Holt,” Zarra chides from behind him, eye roll clear in the tone of her voice.

Matt ignores her to continue teasing his sister. “Heard you ran off with my boyfriend,” he says with a grin. “Did you bring him back? Or do you got him doing some heavy lifting somewhere?” He lifts his gaze back toward the door, seeking Shiro out. 

If Pidge starts to answer him, Matt doesn’t hear, instantly distracted as he does find Shiro at the door, a soft and fond smile on his lips. His heart skips in response to that smile, like some Pavlovian response, and then it stops. 

Shiro's not alone at the door. 

His father is frozen at Shiro’s side in the doorway, like a mirror to Matt’s own paralysis. He’s gained some weight, mercifully, since Matt last saw him well over three years ago, but otherwise Sam hasn’t changed a bit since their last day together in the prison. The weight of his time as a captive has settled heavily in the lines of his face. And that look of shock…

The bitter taste of Leilani’s concern hits Matt fast and hard, the soft gasp of his name on their lips barely registering through the haze of shock. Matt can’t look away from Sam. If he looks away he might disappear again, might be lost to the cosmos and the chaos of their war. 

Slowly, hoarsely, Matt manages to coax his lungs and throat and mouth into whispering, “Dad?”

Sam remains motionless for another long moment, long enough to terrify Matt into wondering if he’s really there, before his own mouth opens and he chokes out,  _ “Matt.” _

Hearing his father’s voice, hearing him say his name is what breaks Matt. He pulls away from Pidge, or she lets him go, he doesn’t know, and he stumbles his way forward. Matt doesn’t stumble anymore, the legs don’t really allow for that, but he’s doing it now like a newborn deer.

His father’s arms are there to catch him, just like they’ve always been, from Matt’s earliest memories until they were ripped apart.

“I’ve got you,” Sam whispers, holding on to him tight. “I’ve got you, son.” They sink to the floor, Matt’s knees make impact with a dull clang that sounds jarring and painful. He doesn’t feel it, though, he can’t, and he doesn’t think he would even if it were possible. He’s too focused on his father, alive and real in his arms. 

“Dad,” he breathes, cracking and broken, his chest already seizing into sobs of relief. So long he spent searching, so long he was wracked with guilt at not trying  _ harder, _ so long he tried to silence the horrible voices in his head that mocked him for believing Sam was still out there.

Sam keeps whispering, arms secure around his son. “I’m here, I’m here, Katie’s here, Takashi’s here, we’re all here, Matt.”

There’s so many things he wants to say.  _ Where were you, why couldn’t I find you, I looked everywhere but couldn’t find you, I never stopped looking _ and so much more, but all that he can manage, in a voice choked and rough and raw, is, “How?”    
  
A large, warm hand fits to Matt’s back, and he jumps before seeing that it’s Shiro, joining them, right before Pidge barrels into the hug, crying and burying herself in the little space between Matt and Sam. She’s shaking and that startles Matt enough to pull back to better accommodate her between them.

“Katie—Katie found my records,” Sam explains, his voice soft and rough. “They must have been hidden somehow after I was transferred.”

“He’s not in any system,” Shiro says, voice gentle and soft. Matt leans back against him without thinking, seeking him out, wanting him close. Shiro, because he’s perfect, sinks down to a knee and presses himself against Matt’s back. “Pidge did a deep search just now, and there’s absolutely nothing. There was no way we were ever going to find him unless we directly accessed the files here on Chiturr.”

“I’ve been here for a while,” Sam says, and Matt looks at him, blinking against the burn of new tears. Never going to find him, not in any system. He’s been tearing apart everything he came across, every scrap of data he could get his hands on, and if not for this chance encounter, this one-in-a-fucking-million shot, he never would have found him.    
  
Ice shoots through Matt’s veins, something almost like panic, and he has to close his eyes tight against the sudden rush of it before it can overwhelm him. There’s a scuffle of movement from out of sight, a soft gasp, the heavy thud of boots on the ground, and Kartok’s voice twisting into a growl around Leilani’s name.   
  
Shit, Leilani.   
  
Matt whips around to seek out his kin, tearing himself from his father’s embrace. He can barely handle the bubble of emotions in his chest, he can’t imagine how this is affecting the empath in the room.   
  
Kartok has them caught up in his arms, and their wide blue eyes blink across the room at Matt, swimming with feeling. Zarra brackets their other side, her gaze locked silently on him, her ears pressed back flat against her head. 

“Lani,” he croaks, “I—” He starts to stand, or tries to. Shiro and Pidge and his father all tangled up with him makes that difficult. Pidge makes a soft noise when he moves, her arms tightening around him, and Shiro’s hand now feels like it’s weighing him down, and suddenly two halves of his heart are aching. Matt swallows and looks away from his kin and to his father, his family. “I—”

“Matt?” Sam asks softly. He looks past Matt, brow furrowed with worry. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m worrying them,” Matt says, the words coming without permission. “They can feel how overwhelmed I am and it’s hitting them hard. I haven’t—they don’t…” Fuck this shouldn’t be so hard. 

“Matt,” Pidge protests softly, looking up at him red rimmed eyes, magnified by her glasses. “Don’t go—”

“Okay,” Sam says, calm and soft as he gently interrupts her. “What do you need to do, son?”

Matt nearly starts crying right then at that familiar coaxing, his dad trying to help him through without knowing what needs to be done. Long hours building things in the garage, or huddled over the dining table with homework, and every time Matt got frustrated Sam would lean pensively over the work and murmur,  _ What do you need to do? _

It forces Matt to pause and take a breath. He needs to reassure his kin that he’s alright.

“Leilani,” he says roughly, catching and holding their gaze. “I’m okay, it’s—this is my dad.”

They nod silently, tears welling onto their cheeks.

_ What do you need to do? _

He needs to be with his kin. Matt reaches out one hand toward the three of them and hears Zarra’s worried chirp.

“It’s okay. Please, can you—”

Before he can even finish the request, Leilani is pulling from Kartok’s arms and stumbling toward the pile with Zarra close at their side.

Matt pulls away from the tangle of his family and his boyfriend, just enough so he can stand and catch Leilani’s hands to steady them. “I’m okay,” he murmurs, holding on tight to two of their hands, leaning into the gentle fretting and fluttering of the remaining two. “Lani, I’m fine, I promise.”   
  
“I have never felt you like that,” they whisper, hands settling on his face. “Matthew… Oh Starling, it scared me.”   
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like it,” he admits softly, closing his eyes. “Not… not even with Shiro.” Matt swallows around the lump of jumbled up words and emotion in his throat, and manages to offer them a good smile. “But it’s a good thing.”   
  
“Yes?” Leilani tries out a hesitant smile and Matt tastes a whisper of relieved mint across his tongue. 

He nods. “Yes.”

Steps away, Pidge and Shiro are helping Sam back to his feet. Matt turns quickly to look when he feels a hand settle on his shoulder.

“Matt,” Sam murmurs. “Is this someone I should know?”

There’s nothing funny about any of this, but Matt can’t help the laugh that bubbles up now. 

“Yeah,” he says, a grin slipping onto his face in the wake of the laugh. “I… Oh God. I have so much to tell you.”

Sam smiles, warm and familiar, and says, “Then let’s take some time and catch up.”


	3. Chapter 3

Samuel Holt always knew his children would do great things.  
  
He always had been the worst kind of brag. Friends and colleagues alike were well used to hearing about Matt and Katie’s accomplishments big and small. _My Matty got into the Garrison last week with top marks! Did I tell you Katie learned to solder?_

He never tired of it, and they never ceased giving him reason to boast. Even while they were scattered across the stars.

Now Katie is plastered against his side, grinning and laughing at Matt across the table, and she’s decked out in armor of all things. His Katie, a fighter—a _pilot!_

And Matt, whose simple black-on-black attire belies the prestige of his new title: Commander of the Intergalactic Coalition. That’s certainly something Sam never expected, though he never doubted Matt was clever enough to lead. It’s hard to reconcile the image of the broken boy that Sam carried mournfully in his heart after their separation in prison with the Commander who sits just feet from him now.

It’s crazy to think that his kids aren’t _kids_ anymore. Fighters, fierce and strong, and key players in a universal fight. They’ve grown up when he wasn’t looking, when he wasn’t around to look, and Sam might be having a bit of a moment here, trying to take it all in.

Lord knows it is a lot.

Their emotional reunion coupled with the liberation of Chiturr has been deemed a cause for celebration. The apparently scheduled talks between the Chiturran leaders, Matt’s Coalition, and Katie’s Voltron have fallen momentarily to the side. Food and drinks were called up from the kitchens and Katie’s friends, her fellow paladins, were called in from their tasks.

It’s an interesting congregation to say the least, but Sam can’t help but feel more settled than he has in what seems like forever. His children chatter and tease one another as they always have, with the addition now of occasional commentary from their comrades. It’s as if nothing has changed since that last dinner before he and Matt left for Kerberos.

Katie exclaims indignantly at something Matt has said to her and on instinct long buried, Sam says flatly, “Children.” 

Both their heads snap over to look at him, eyes wide, identical both to one another and their much younger selves. Despite his admonition not ten seconds earlier, Sam smiles.

A sweet laugh fills the air, bright and bell-like. It comes from one of Matt’s comrades, a fellow Commander, the lovely one with the breathtaking smile. More laughter follows from Coalition and Voltron alike and both Matt and Katie flush.  
  
“Shit,” Matt mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “If that wasn’t some kind of whiplash…”

Sam chuckles. “It’s muscle memory, apparently.”

“Wish it was a muscle that atrophied,” Katie says, still very pink in the cheeks, the color spread all the way up to her ears. The paladin at her other side, the one in blue—Sam thinks his name is Lance—sniggers and barely flinches when a fist lands rabbit fast in his side from Katie.

“Seriously.” Matt chuckles, shaking his head. “Last thing I need is any of the recruits seeing that if you’re on base. They’ll lose all that initial wariness about me. That should be something I make happen on my own.”

“Oh Matthew,” the lovely Commander, Leilani, laughs. The looming Commander Kartok at their side joins in with a soft chuckle, one that’s undeniably fond. “Come now, the recruits idolize you for at least the first full cycle they are with us.”  
  
“Oh goody,” Matt drawls. “A whole cycle.”

The short, fuzzy Commander’s face flashes in something like a smirk as she says, “And they spend the next ten cycles terrified of you.”

Zarra, Sam remembers. He’s learned a lot of names in a very short time, but they’re quickly niggling their way into more permanent spots in his brain. He gets the sense Zarra will be easier to recall from the way she sways into his son’s side as if Matt is wielding all the gravity in the room.

“That’s how I like them,” Matt says, grinning and leaning in toward her just the same as she does to him. “Gotta keep Martek on his toes, after all. His life would be so boring without having to rein me in from spooking a couple of newbies.”

“Matt,” Shiro chides with a smile, squeezing the shoulder he’s got a hand on. “You torture your second.”  
  
“Is it really torture if he signed up for it knowing exactly what he was getting into?” Matt turns that grin, wilder than Sam remembers, on Shiro and it would be hard to miss how the air between them sparks electric.

Well, they’ve always been a lively couple… but still, something about that glance burns brighter—more reckless—than he saw between them before. Life and death situations will do that to you, he supposes.

Sam shakes his head and smiles to himself. To see them at all, let alone happy and together again, is more than he’s ever allowed himself to even dream.  
  
A gentle squeeze on his hand brings him back, and he looks to Katie nestled at his side. “You okay?” she asks softly, eyes bright with her concern. Maybe it’s the light, or the novelty of being with her again after so long, but she looks so much like Colleen in this moment that it nearly takes his breath away.

“I’m fine, Kitten,” Sam promises her softly. “Perfectly fine.” He raises their joined hands and presses a kiss to her knuckles, grinning at the soft laugh it draws from her lips.

“Just checking. It’s been a crazy day. It’d be a lot to handle even without our special circumstances.”

“Special circumstances?” Sam chuckles. “That’s one way to put it. What about this _isn’t_ ‘special circumstances’?”

She shrugs, the gesture achingly familiar even with the new, strong breadth to her shoulders and the accentuation of the slightly silly shoulder pads. “Guess it depends.”

“I guess it does.” He leans over to kiss the top of her head again. He hasn’t been able to stop making these little gestures of affection. It’s too incredible to have his daughter here, the gangly girl he left on Earth so long ago, and every little action is as much to remind himself she’s real as it is to assure her he’s still the same man who raised her.

Katie beams at him until her attention is stolen by one of her friends—the one in red, who Sam recognizes belatedly as the talented young cadet Shiro had always been so close to at the Garrison. Keith.  
  
With his daughter caught up in conversation again, Sam allows himself to slip back into a state of observance, just breathing as he takes everything in.

There’s a lot to learn, a lot to get used to, a lot of decisions to be made. There are so many new people—aliens, many of them, of races and statures he’s never before seen—who are obviously close to his children but whose names he barely knows.

But he’ll have the chance to connect, Sam reminds himself once more. He’ll get to know what his children’s lives are now, who they are, what they do. The moment they rushed into his arms he swore to himself they’d never be separated again, not by any power in the universe.

“Dad?” It’s Matt’s voice that pulls him out of his reverie this time.

“Yes, son?”

A smile dances across Matt’s face. “Just making sure you’re good.”

“Never been better,” Sam says, quiet and utterly sincere. He’s always held his wedding day and his children’s births as the three best days of his life, but this may just top them all. “Although I think I can be forgiven a little lingering shock.”

Commander Leilani’s lovely brow creases in concern. “Are you well? I should have asked earlier—”

“Lani, he’s fine,” Matt assures them before glancing across the table at Sam again. “You _are_ okay, right? They’re a healer, if you need anything taken care of.”

“I’m perfectly healthy, I promise. Just a few more creaks in these bones than there used to be.” He offers his son a warm smile. “I spent a lot longer chasing rambunctious little ones around than I expected. I thought I was done with that when you and Kitten learned to read.”

Matt laughs, grinning. “Yeah, you lucked out with two nerds who didn’t want to go outside and climb trees.”

“Speak for yourself,” Katie says pointedly. “I climbed plenty of trees before my allergies got bad. That’s how I broke my arm.” She smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Or should I say, how you let me break my arm.”

“You’re still holding that over my head?!” Matt exclaims. “Oh come on!”

“I was six! And _you_ were supposed to be keeping an eye on me—”

Matt’s on his feet in an instant, moving with an agility and smoothness that Sam can’t recall him ever possessing before, to point a firm finger at his sister across the table. “I told you not to climb the damn tree!”

“Be easy,” Commander Kartok rumbles before Sam can intervene, holding up one massive hand. “There is no need for a rise in tempers, even in jest.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Sam chuckles, shaking his head.

Katie still sticks her tongue out at Matt across the table and he rolls his eyes as he sinks back into his chair.

“Whatever. I’ll get you back in a spar or something.”

“Never thought I’d hear either of my children volunteering to spar,” Sam murmurs. “Matt, you avoided it like the plague at the Garrison.”

Matt shrugs. “I was training to be a scientist, not a fighter. Things are different now.”

“...Ah. Well.” Something twinges in Sam’s chest. Guilt, perhaps, that his son was ripped away from the life he’d planned—the life he wanted—and thrown into some incomprehensibly sprawling war. All Matt wanted to do was to follow his own footsteps as a space explorer; Katie, when she was old enough to understand, wanted the same.

But he’s not here to be verklempt. He’s with his Matt and his Katie again, and Shiro, and all these lovely new people who seem to care a lot about his kids. Who wouldn’t? They’re fantastic.

“You’re still a scientist,” Shiro says quietly. It’s aimed at Matt alone, but Sam is just close enough to catch it as well, even while everyone else gets swept up in something the Princess Allura, Lance and—Hunk, he thinks it is (he is very curious to know if that is the boy’s given name)—are explaining to the excited Chiturrans.

Matt merely shrugs a shoulder. “I’m more of an engineer now, babe. That’s different. Hunk and Pidge’ll tell you that easy.”

“You would have gone into a fit if someone called you an engineer once,” Shiro says, a crooked sort of smile pulling at his lips, but it’s weak.

Matt laughs. “Things change, sunshine.” He kisses Shiro’s cheek and look away when Zarra calls his name, looking for his input to the other conversation. It’s only because he’s paying attention that Sam catches the shutter, ever so slight, in Shiro’s eyes. The moment is gone before it really has a chance to live, but Sam saw it, and honestly? He understands.

Things change. Things _have_ changed. Just looking at his children would tell him that, just a single glance and he knows.

Katie looks more like Colleen than she ever has. It’s in the shape of her face, the curve of her smile, and there’s an unfamiliar but settled wisdom in her eyes. She’s seen so much and done even more and Sam knows that his brilliant little girl has grown up and come into her own.

And Matt? Oh, Matt.

Matt’s a man now. Matt is all angles and clean lines, quick grins and sharp wit. He’s got scars on his arms and face, scars that broadcast to the world how strong he is to have survived all that he’s been through. It’s a painful sort of pride that swells in Sam’s chest when he looks at his son. He’s so much stronger than before, and so much more a leader, but the events and decisions that crafted his new stature weigh heavy. A father can see that.

It hits Sam then that his children’s eyes are no longer identical. Where Katie’s spark with wisdom and curiosity, Matt’s bright hazel is undercut by guarded calculation. Even now, surrounded by friends, allies, and loved ones, his gaze is constantly assessing, always alert, even when it falls on Shiro and softens.

It hurts to see this change in Matt, who has always been so open and carefree. It hurts to know that even as his son is smiling, laughing, and joking around right before his eyes, there’s still an edge to him that shouldn’t exist.

Sam swallows roughly as his throat starts to tighten up, and his vision begins to tunnel under the threat of melancholy usually kept strictly at bay. He’s saved from the undertow of his darker thoughts by a crisp and insistent call of, “Commander Holt?”

“Yes?” Sam answers reflexively, looking up, at the same time that Matt turns and says, “What do you need?”

Their eyes meet in surprise across the table and Sam cracks a smile.

“Muscle memory,” he jokes, his heart lightening already as Katie snorts at his side and Shiro is quick to cover up a chuckle. “It’s all yours, son, I’m done with being in charge.”

“You sure? I’m pretty sure Martek over here would prefer if you were the Holt holding the reins,” Matt says with a crooked grin.

“Positive.” Sam smiles, leaning forward with an outstretched hand toward his son. “I think the title might sit better with you anyway.”

Matt takes his hand and holds on tight. “Only ‘cause I learned from the best,” he says, eyes so bright in the moment that the guarded edge seems knocked away.

Sam takes a deep, calming breath. This is still his Matty, the boy he raised to be a good man.

“They’re in good hands,” he murmurs, and Matt smiles the way he should.

“Commander?”

Matt turns again to look at his second-in-command. “Yeah, sorry, Martek. What’s up?”

“I have the information you requested, sir.” Sam doesn’t have time to dwell on how strange it is to hear his son called “sir” before Matt is taking the datapad Martek offers and then grinning so brightly it’s stunning.

He looks up at Sam, and at Katie next to him. “You guys want to help me with a project?”

Katie’s head tilts and provides Sam a flash of memory to her early childhood, when that movement always prefaced a precocious question. “What kind of project?”

“Communications,” he answers, with a twist to his mouth that gives away his excitement over whatever surprise element he’s trying to keep. “Long distance. _Very_ long distance.”

“Oh, just get it out.” Katie rolls her eyes at him.

Matt’s gaze flicks up to meet Sam’s as he explains, “I’m working on organizing a linkup through our bases and allies that can reach Earth and will be compatible with their systems.”

Sam’s breath catches in his chest and Katie sits up straight.

“You mean we could talk to Mom?”

Matt nods, his eyes never leaving his father’s.

His throat is tightening once more but in such a different way. He has a chance to talk to Colleen again. He hasn’t heard her voice in so many years, now—more than he ever feared before they left Earth on that doomed mission. Her teasing cadences and bright laugh have never faded in his mind.

“So Dad,” Matt says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “What do you think?”

Sam’s hand is shaking as he reaches out toward his son again.

“When can we start?”

**Author's Note:**

> We love to hear your thoughts! Come check out [the blog](http://this-iswhywefight.tumblr.com) for this 'verse over on Tumblr. Chat with us, indulge our vanity, coax ridiculous headcanons out of us.


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